Cruise

Standing on Clara’s front porch, I’m tempted to ask if I can come in, but I’m the one who insisted on taking it slow. Fuck slow. “I want to kiss you.”

“I want that.” I like how eager she sounds.

“I shouldn’t stay.” My fingers tighten around her small waist.

When I don’t make a move, she asks, “Are we taking it slow?”

“I’m not sure I can with you.”

“Do you with other girls?”

“You ask a lot of questions, Dove.”

“And you answer very few of them.”

“This is a lot of talking. How about we just kiss?”

She nods, so I lean down, closing my eyes, and savor her lips when they meet mine. She’s so pliable and willing, her mouth opening and welcoming me inside. God, I can’t wait to be inside other parts of her. Shit. I’m hard.

Sloooooow, I remind myself. Monday. That’s not really slow, but it feels like a form of sexual torture all the same. I back away. “Good night.”

“Wait.”

I’m already two steps down when I look back. I notice how her skirt highlights the curves of her hips. Just like the pink skirt, this black one sends my mind to the gutter. She’s got a killer little body under all those clothes she wears. I can’t wait to take them off her. Again. “What’s up, Dove?”

A little huff is heard, making me smile. I think she wants this as much as me. “You left me last time. After—”

“After?”

“After you kissed me and we did more, you left me.”

Like I’m doing now. Shit. “The two have nothing in common. I left because it was too soon for us to go any further.”

Leaning against the door to her house, she appears conflicted when she looks away. She’s vulnerable in ways that make me want to protect her from the world, and me. Coming back to the porch, I lean on the wall next to her and raise her chin until she’s looking at me. “Hey Dove, I have no reason to lie to you. I’m not hiding some truth to later be discovered. I want to spend more time with you before we sleep together. It’s that simple.”

She angles her head, and I drop my hand. “Are we friends with benefits?”

“We are friends. As for the benefits, that’s the part we’re taking slow.”

Her curiosity is getting the better of her. I like that she’s upfront with me though. “Have you ever had friends with benefits?”

I sigh. This could end very badly like last time, but she needs to know the truth. “I’ve been in a needs-based relationship before.”

“You needed sex so you would call each other?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t it become more? Why weren’t you boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Because I only enjoyed her company some of the time.”

“And the other times?”

“I didn’t. We wanted different things.”

Filling in the blanks, she speaks just above a whisper, “She wanted you, but you didn’t want her.”

“She also wanted my brother. I think she wanted anyone . . .” Fuck.

Can I trust Clara to want me for me and not my last name?

The answer’s found in her eyes when they go wide. “She was using you?”

“I don’t judge people for wanting more in life. I judge how they go about it. I don’t want to spend my life with someone who only wants something superficial from me.”

“You mean money?”

I watch her as a million thoughts seem to fill her head at once. Her lips twist to the side, and she looks down at the space between us. I reply, “Yes. She wants to marry into money.”

“Money won’t end someone’s pain.” She glances to the street. “I can tell by how you dress and the car you drive that you have means well above mine. What I can’t tell is why you’re here.”

Resting my hand on her shoulder, my thumb strokes her neck. “Because you’re unique. Gorgeous and so fucking sexy. Innocent, and a little quirky. I don’t know what you’re going to say next, but I find myself waiting to hear it.”

“I’m messed up, Cruise. What you find cute isn’t on the inside.”

“I don’t find it cute. I find you utterly fascinating. Remember? You can see it in my eyes. Now believe me when I tell you. You, Clara Eckerd, are enthralling.”

She turns away from me. “What if I’m not so fascinating? What if I’m just a girl who’s been hurt in ways that are . . .” Her gaze returns to mine. “You spoke of broken pieces, that you’re not afraid of getting hurt, but I am. I’m not healed from the past pain I’ve experienced. If you can walk away from the other woman, what makes me special?”

I hate whatever it was that caused her so much self-doubt. She’s fucking incredible, and I don’t know if I can articulate myself clearly. I take a deep breath and give it a shot. “We barely know each other and all I want to do is discover what makes you tick. I want to know everything about you. What brings excitement to your eyes? But also why you seem embarrassed around me?”

“I embarrassed myself when I asked you to have sex with me. I felt rejected when you left. But you weren’t leaving me.”

“No. I was breaking a habit.”

She laughs. “I know a lot about that. I have a few I want to break, too.”

“Look, this is already heavier than I’ve gotten with anyone in probably years, but there’s something about you that makes me want to open up. So do I want to have sex with you? Fuck yeah, I do. But do I want this to be like every other relationship I’ve had? No. I don’t.”

“You mean that, don’t you? You think I’m special? That’s not a line to get me into bed?”

“It’s the truth, Clara.” I kiss her cheek, then walk back to the steps. “So I’ll say good night because if I don’t leave now I’ll be saying good morning and you deserve better than that from any guy who’s lucky enough to spend time with you. Just tell me one thing.”

“Okay.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Tell me this counts as our second date.”

The sound of her laughter is soothing to my torn heart. Maybe there’s hope for me yet. Coming over, she wraps her arms around me. “This definitely counts as our second date, and Monday is our third, if you’re keeping track.”

Running my palm over the round of her ass, I reply, “I’m most definitely keeping track.”

I kiss her again, this time on those sweet lips of hers. Then I dash down the stairs. “I’ll see you Monday, Dove.”

“See you Monday.”

She heads inside the house and I get in the car. This time my mood is different. The car isn’t a reprieve I need, a sanctuary to escape to. The woman inside the house is. I start the car and drive away in the best mood I’ve been in in a long time.

* * *

Sara Jane opens the door, and asks, “And to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Just wanted to stop by. Is it a good time?”

“You’re always welcome. You know that, Cruise. C’mon.” I follow her inside the little white house with blue shutters. It’s little compared to the manor where they used to live. “Alexander’s in the office. Go on back.”

I walk to the hall, but stop. “Thanks. You doing okay?”

“Great,” she replies with a smile. “You?”

“Pretty good.”

“Pretty good? Ohh.” Her whole demeanor perks up. “It’s good to see you smile.”

I laugh because I’m so obvious. “Feels good.” I pass two doors and knock on the third. I don’t wait, and just walk in.

Alex looks up, but he’s on the phone. Nodding, he signals toward the chair. “That valuation is off by forty-three percent. I’m not paying more than it’s worth just because I can. Get the deal done at a fair price. Call me next week with good news.” He hangs up and looks me over. “Is this a social call or business? If it’s business, no can do. I promised Sara Jane I’d eat dinner with her tonight. The last two nights, I’ve been stuck on calls.”

“Social.”

He stands. “Great. Beer?”

“Yup.” We go back to the living room.

Sara Jane is in the kitchen with two beers already waiting on the island. “Are you staying for dinner, Cruise?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Nope. I made lasagna from scratch. So you’ll be a guinea pig like Alexander.” She laughs. Like Alex and myself, she’s had challenges to overcome, but I love seeing the carefree person she has become.

We take the beers and sit on a pair of stools. I say, “Happy to help out.”

Leaning on the marble counter across from us, she says, “So spill.”

I grab my beer and laugh. She’s not going to let this go, so I give in. “I met someone.”

Sara Jane gasps, but her smile pops out right after. “A new woman? Tell. Me. Everything.”

“You’re finding way too much joy in this considering it might not turn into anything.” It has. Already. I’m in deep with these feelings I have for her, but it seems ridiculous to admit it when it’s been such a short time.

Sara Jane urges, “Please tell me she’s nothing like Celeste.”

“She’s nothing like Celeste.”

“Well, that’s good because Celeste is a snob and a gold digger.” Sara Jane was never shy about her feelings toward Celeste. Before I started dating her, Celeste had started a rumor that she had dated Alex during the break that he and Sara Jane took. It wasn’t true but the bad blood remains.

Alex taps his bottle against mine. “She’s old news. What about this new girl?”

“I met her in a brief encounter at Baynard Prep and then ran into her down at the pub last Friday.”

By how attentive Sara Jane is to every detail I share, I can tell she lives for this stuff. “What happened?”

“Well, Mrs. Kingwood, I escorted her home and then . . .” Memories come fast—I taste her skin, licking her from navel to neck while squeezing her tits through the silky lace-edged fabric of her bra. “Nothing happened. I left.”

“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. Turning around she takes the dish out of the oven. “But you’re going to see her again?”

“I saw her tonight. It’s kind of odd, but we randomly ran into each other again.”

Sara Jane gasps, the oven mitts covering her mouth. “Twice. That’s not a coincidence. That’s serend—”

“That’s living in a suburb for you.”

Her gloved hands fist and she puts them on her hips. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“It’s what I’m comfortable with. Call me superstitious, but I’m not a big believer in happenstance. Do I think there could be a greater power playing a role in this relationship? Sure. But should I believe in Santa Claus. No.”

Alex says, “On one of the worst days of my life, I was given a sign.”

I know where he’s going with this. I was there the first time he ever saw Sara Jane. He was never the same after that. He became a better man because of her. Can my Dove do the same for me? “You think Clara could be my sign?”

“Her name is Clara?” Sara Jane asks. “That’s so pretty.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Is she kind?”

The question doesn’t surprise me. Alex’s wife can be guarded sometimes. They may be billionaires, but possessions have never meant anything to her, and she’s sensitive to shallow people. She wants to know where someone’s heart lies. Are they good or bad, evil, or kind? “She’s very kind. A lot like you in some ways. She hides behind walls she’s built around her. I recognize the signs since I do the same. She’s been hurt and carries that with her, but she’s also open. At least with me.”

Sara Jane replies, “I like her already. If she can make you smile, she must be nice. The witch never did, that’s for sure.”

The witch—Celeste. To be fair, I never went to Celeste for smiles.

I take another pull from the bottle. “Your wife is still as feisty as ever. You know that?”

“I do.” He’s chuckling as he moves around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. Kissing her head, he then says, “She’s always been a badass.”

Seeing them so in love for many years, but also in awe of each other reinforces that desire I try to keep buried. I’m not sure I’m deserving of a great love of this lifetime much less the next. If there is a next life after this one. I’ve paid the price five times over, and from what I gather, so has Clara. But is it enough? Is the penance too high for us to ever pay our debts? Or will we remain hopeless sinners in this hell on earth? “I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

They both look at me. Sara Jane smiles, and says, “Sure. Get the plates.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re all sitting in the living room watching some show on the history channel when I say, “My family wants me to come over tomorrow night for dinner.”

Sara Jane, curled against Alex’s side, asks, “Are you going?”

“I told my mother I would.”

Alex mutes the big screen. “Your brother is going to be there?”

He doesn’t have to say which brother. I know which one he means. “My mother said everyone should be there, so yeah, Fredrick will be.”

“How do you remain so calm?” he asks.

“Celeste and I were not committed. As for my brother, he crossed a line. He’s an asshole, so most likely he’ll provoke me. Guess I’ll see how calm I remain and then decide.”

Sara Jane says, “You don’t owe them anything, Cruise. You know that, right? You’re family here. We’re your family, so if they don’t welcome you, we always will.”

“I appreciate that.” And I do, and have for years now. But the nightmares invade my mind, even in good times like these.

. . . My wrists feel weightless with the shackles off. My loss of energy is bothersome to the man with the gun. He’s hit me twice on the back of the head to “encourage” me to move faster. He’s more anxious about starting tonight’s round of torture than I am. “Fuck you,” I spew, then spit on his fucking ugly brown shoes.

“Always with the attitude, John.”

He calls me by my given name to get a rise out of me. When I was adopted, my parents named me after my father, the Senator. They thought it would bond me into their family. But as much as they kissed me in front of the cameras, I was ignored behind the scenes.

I’m kicked in the groin and drop to my knees. My lungs burn with the air expelled and the pain is like fire burning through my body.

Three times a year, the Senator would ask me to play catch or ride a horse with him, go for a walk. It wasn’t until I was eight that I realized that I wasn’t just his son, but a photo-op.

A metal rod whacks the center of my back and my chest hits the cement floor. I might be broken. I can’t feel much anymore. I used to scream. Yell at my perpetrator, but now, I take life blow by blow.

The floor is almost cool against my heated cheek. The taste of blood fills my mouth. It’s too dark to know what’s going on with my vision. Punishment always comes at night.

I remember how it used to feel real—my life, like my family actually loved me. I think they do in their own way, just like I love them in mine.

The man with the mask on, the one who comes each night to drag me from the cell I share with my friend, my brother not by blood, but by choice, won’t break my loyalty to Alex. He may break every bone in my body, but I’ll die before I let him win. Maybe my death will be his victory. Ultimately, it’s Alexander Kingwood IV’s death that he covets.

As long as I’m alive, he won’t get his prize.

. . . Alex and I are better at compartmentalizing our emotions after being kidnapped last year. We had to, to survive or they would have killed us mentally before the physical torture even started.

Sara Jane is still soft in all the ways that matter. She went through hell, but came out the other side fiercer than ever with her love for Alex, but still intact with who she always was.

Working for the Kingwoods isn’t a job I sought out. It’s the life I inherited. They are my family, so as long as they’ll have me, I’ll stick around. And I could imagine Clara sitting around with us. They would immediately graft her into our fold.